The troubadour's song Read Free Page B

bridge, the south town gate creaked open behind her, and a contingent of horsemen poured through. Allesandra's heart leapt into her throat when she saw Simon de Montfort himself lead his men forth. But the frightening sight only spurred her on, and she bent over her horse and urged the mare to dash over the bridge. For one horrifying second she imagined all of de Montfort's corps coming after her and taking her prisoner, and she dared not look back.
    Instead, she turned when she'd crossed the bridge and pressed the mare to the north, where even with her hair and the wind in her eyes, she knew that the allies' boats waited. She raced for her life. Only when the camp was within sight and she plunged her horse into the Garonne did she dare look back.
    The French army had not followed. She could now see the enemy forces riding southeast on the road away from the town. The sight confused her. A withdrawal? With the infantry still fighting at the north gate? Some deep suspicion nagged, and while she paused, her horse breathing hard after the short burst of speed, she tried to grapple with the French strategy.

    Then she urged the horse into the middle of the river. "Come on, Kastira," she addressed the horse. "Swim."
    As she swam the horse through the middle of the river and came out on the bank at the edge of the allied camp, Allesandra had time to assess the chaos in front of her. In the distance by the north gate the count of Foix's colors showed that his men still engaged in mostly hand-to-hand combat with French soldiers, fighting for possession of the bridge. The gate was open and now several horsemen slashed their way in.
    "My God," she breathed, riding through the camp, where the rest of the allied infantry still milled about, yelling and gesturing excitedly. "It's some sort of trap."
    "Where is Count Raymond?" she yelled at a knot of soldiers she approached.
    "There," one of them answered, and pointed to a tent in the middle of the camp.
    She nudged her horse forward and then dismounted when she found her objective.
    "Raymond," she shouted, her soft boots sliding on the damp grass.
    Count Raymond VI of Toulouse turned from the group of men with whom he was speaking and looked at her in surprise. He was clad in chain mail and helmet, but even if she didn't know the slope of his squarish shoulders, his surcoat of red and white identified him, as did the pennant drooping from several lances held erect by his tent.
    He stepped forward to meet her. "My lady Allesandra, what are you doing here?"
    "Come to assist you," she said in tones that brooked no argument. "Simon de Montfort is up to something and you've no time to waste."
    "Yes, yes, well, you see the skirmish at the gate. I had suggested building a barricade by the road in case the French do break out of the gate. But Foix and Comminges do not agree."
    They were distracted by shouts and sergeants-at-arms running through the camp toward them.

    "Sir, they withdraw," said a knight who spoke to the men-at-arms, and then turned to address Count Raymond.
    "They withdraw?" he asked, lifting his thick eyebrows under his helmet.
    "They've been seen on the road south in formation," said the knight.
    "Well," said Raymond. "Perhaps they realize that we outnumber them and are giving up the fight."
    An image of the French knight on the staircase in the tower came to mind, and Allesandra stepped between the men.
    "It is a trick, my lord," she said, making Raymond look at her. "They would not withdraw their cavalry and leave their infantry in the middle of an assault on the other side of the town. Rouse your men, sir, Simon de Montfort is going to attack."
    "My dear," said Raymond, "he will hardly attack us in the field. We outnumber him fifteen to one. It would be his suicide."
    Exasperation overwhelmed her. "You are in charge of this army, Raymond. We haven't time to argue."
    He shook his head helplessly. "I've been arguing all morning with Foix and Cumminges. Now King Peter is making